


Because Of Course

by Caedmon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He’d taken her to Namtan for a holiday. It was supposed to be a quiet, safe little trip for the two of them to relax and have some fun. He’d been running her too hard lately, and after they came back from Pete’s World and the emotional wrench that had been, he knew she could use a break. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>So he’d set the coordinates for a pleasure planet and told her to dress for warm weather. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>But it was anything but a holiday. There had been trouble. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Because of course there had.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because Of Course

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedoctorofsteel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedoctorofsteel/gifts).



> Written for thedoctorofsteel on tumblr, who asked for 10/Rose angst, hurt/comfort. 
> 
> I tagged this with "graphic depictions of violence" - although there is no actual violence, there is a graphic description of the aftermath of violence. Caveat emptor. 
> 
> A couple of notes:  
> I own nothing having to do with Doctor Who.   
> Kudos and comments are the lifeblood of the muse.  
> come talk to me! caedmonfaith.tumblr.com

Five-and-a-half hours. That’s how long he’d been sitting by her bed.

He’d taken her to Namtan for a holiday. It was supposed to be a quiet, safe little trip for the two of them to relax and have some fun. He’d been running her too hard lately, and after they came back from Pete’s World and the emotional wrench that had been, he knew she could use a break. 

So he’d set the coordinates for a pleasure planet and told her to dress for warm weather. 

But it was anything but a holiday. There had been trouble. 

Because of course there had. 

The ruling government had been overthrown, and they’d landed in the deposed king’s camp. After some slick talking to make the locals understand that he and Rose were friends and not foes, they’d joined the resistance and set about working on plans to invade the capital. 

Because of course they had. 

And he hadn’t regretted it, not right away. Rose was in her element, providing a compassionate shoulder for those who needed it and pointing out things that he was missing. When the time came to invade the capital city, he’d told her to stay behind with the refugees. Rose had wanted to go along, appealing to his masculine vanity by telling him that if there was trouble, the safest place for her would be by his side. After giving her nothing more than a furrowed brow and an admonishment not to wander off, he’d capitulated and let her come along.

Because of course he had. 

But the rebels weren’t as prepared as he’d hoped, and the insurgents had been forced to retreat. There had been death, destruction, injury, and some were captured. Rose had (predictably) left his side and was taken prisoner by the occupying army. 

Because of course she had. 

He’d been wild with fear for her, desperate to get her back. He’d demanded that the insurgent leader, Parex, help him infiltrate the city to get to her. He’d made it clear that Rose was his priority, and while he would be happy to help them once Rose was safe and with him where she belonged, they could fuck right the fuck off in the meantime. 

Parex had informed him that the dungeons beneath the castle were nigh impenetrable, and that his best bet was to go back in with the rebel forces once they regrouped and came up with a new plan of attack. He told the Doctor, calmly and rationally, that the best thing he could do for Rose right now would be to help them invade and reclaim their city. 

The Doctor had taken deep breaths to calm himself. He’d forced himself to remember his Time Lord training, which insisted that logic must rule emotions. That beings who made decisions based on emotions were weak. That he must _think_ , not _feel_. He’d almost rushed headlong into enemy territory because he was thinking with his hearts, not his brain. 

So he’d given Parex a curt nod and set about planning another attack, pushing Rose and his incredible worry for her to the back of his mind. 

It had taken three days to plan the next attack, and the Doctor had driven the leaders of the rebel army in the planning sessions until one of the men collapsed from exhaustion. It was only then that the Doctor relented and gave the men twelve hours to rest. He, however, had continued to plan and strategize. 

Because of course he had.

And when the dust settled, the insurgents were the victors - no small thanks to the Doctor. He hadn't paused to celebrate, he hadn’t stopped to comfort the injured. He’d stopped for nothing on his way to the dungeons. Finding Rose was all he cared about. He had to see his Rose safe, he had to get her into his arms and feel the air flowing into and out of her lungs while her heart beat next to his own chest.

The TARDIS had tried to soothe him while he was in the camp planning, letting him know in her way that Rose was alive. But he didn't miss the anxious undertone in her hum. It had driven him harder. 

He’d imagined all the horrible things that could happen to her and tried to prepare for the worst he might find. 

He hadn't been prepared for what he found.

Rose had been lying on a straw pallet in the corner of a dank cell, her clothes torn and bloody. She’d not responded to her name, nor his frantic touch. He’d used the sonic to check her for injuries: two broken ribs, a shattered ankle, fractured tibia and countless contusions and abrasions. Her hands were a mess of defensive wounds, and there was dried blood on most of the skin he could see. 

He’d checked her spine to make sure it was safe to lift her, then done so and carried her broken and unconscious body back to his TARDIS. 

Once he’d gotten her into the TARDIS, he'd rushed her to the infirmary and immediately sedated her so she'd feel no pain. Then he set about mending her. He’d healed her major injuries first, working quickly against the half-life of the sedative. Once her bones were mended, he'd put her into the TARDIS’ restorative chamber to heal the cuts and bruises. With only seventeen minutes left on the sedative, he'd removed her clothes and cleaned her newly-healed flesh, wiping the blood away with a delicate, feather-soft touch. He’d washed her hair and dressed her in a gown with only a minute left to spare before the sedative wore off. 

He’d pulled up a stool, taking her hand in his, and waited for that interminable minute to end so he could see the light in her eyes again.

The minute came and went, and still Rose slept.

That was five-and-a-half hours ago. He hadn't moved, and neither had she. 

He’d been over and over the reasons she may still be asleep, and there was no cause that made sense to him. She should have awakened to a healed body and relieved Time Lord hours ago.

But she hadn't. 

The Doctor bowed his head over Rose’s hand, feeling his fringe brushing her wrist, and began to plead. He didn't know what else to do.

“Rose, please. You need to wake up now. Open your eyes and look at me. You have to wake up. Please, Rose.”

She didn't stir. 

He berated himself for letting her out of his sight, for taking her into a potentially dangerous situation, for not rescuing her the minute he knew what happened, for letting even one precious hair on her beautiful head be harmed. There was no excuse. He had the blood of billions on his hands, but Rose, lying quiet and still in front of him, the one absolution and solace he had in his miserable life, was enough to send him into a downward spiral. 

He silently vowed to himself, to her, and any deity that may be listening that he would be a better man. That he could be what she needed. He would tell her what she was to him, how much he loved her. He would never let her go.

He wept over her hand, stroking it gently, pleading with her to wake up without words. He did his best to communicate his intense, undying love for her through the link of their joined hands. He willed her to wake up, to throw herself into his arms, to weep from the memories of what had happened to her, to tremble in fear, to rage at him for not coming sooner. He could and would withstand it all, any of it, if she would just come back to him. 

“Please Rose. _Please_ wake up. What will become of me if you're not here to hold my hand? Who will pretend I'm impressive? Who will keep the nightmares away, just by being near? Who, if not you, Rose? Please, Rose, I'm begging. _I need you_.” He wept openly. “I can't do this without you, Rose Tyler. _I need you._ Don't leave me, love. Stay with me.”

Rose didn't stir. 

The Doctor murmured into the skin of the back of her hand with eyes closed, a repeated little plea for her to rejoin him. “Please, Rose. Please. I _need_ you. I need you so much.”

Above him, Rose’s eyes fluttered. She struggled up from the depths of unconsciousness like swimming through molasses, eventually reaching the surface with incredible effort. She blinked, then closed her blurry and bleary eyes against the harsh infirmary lights. She blinked again after a moment, and her hand twitched. 

The Doctor shot to his feet and leaned over her, bracing one arm on the other side of her body, his face hovering above hers, the hand that wasn’t holding him up stroking her face.

“Rose, love, it's alright. You're safe. I'm here and I've got you. Nothing will hurt you anymore.”

She opened her eyes again, slowly, partially, and fixed her soft gaze on the Time Lord in front of her.

“Doctor,” she murmured, and gave a weak hint of a smile.

The Doctor sagged with relief. He'd nearly lost her, but his Rose had heard his pleas and come back to him. She hadn't left him alone to face the universe, his nightmares and his conscience without her. His Rose had healed him before, and she'd come back now instead of leaving him to his misery and grief.

Because of course she had.


End file.
